Mediator
by Connie rose
Summary: A conversation between Jack and an OC in which the OC explains some things to him, and there a revelations all around. A prequel of sorts to my story 'Heavy Heart' but you don't have to read that story first.


**Hi, guys! As I said it the summary, this is a prequel of sorts to my Newsies fic, _Heavy Heart_. I got two amazing reviews to that story, which made me very happy. Thank you to everyone who read, favorited or followed that story, as well as to my two reviewers. One of my reviewers, KnightNight7203, asked me if I would ever add to _Heavy Heart_ and explain how and why the newsies came to trust my OC Connie so much. I wasn't planning on it. But then I had a plot bunny, and realized that I could add to it. I am quite happy with the way this turned out, and am actually quite proud of it.**

**To my four amazing friends who discovered the hidden message in my last story, there is no message in this one. I wrote this story based on an idea, and did not add any other meaning to it.**

**In other news, my school is putting on _Pippin_ as our spring production, and I would love to be in it. But, auditions are in a little over two weeks and I have no idea what to do for my monologue or song. My theatre teacher said to go for a comedy monologue and an uptempo, but I don't know. If you have any recommendations please let me know! I'd really appreciate it.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Connie's POV

I am often the mediator.

Rifts happen, misunderstandings occur.

Between friends.

Between family.

Between friends as close as family.

When this happens at the lodging house, I often take it upon myself to try and sort everything out.

Race thinks Specs has taken his cigar, and Specs thinks Race has taken his glass when really it was Albert all along? I gather all three of them, and straighten everything out.

JoJo is mad at Elmer? I find myself sitting down with one or the other, trying to get them to understand things from the other's point of view.

That is how I find myself seated across from Jack in his pent-house one morning before sunrise.

"Look, Connie," Jack begins.

I nod, encouraging him to continue.

"I have a question to ask you," He scratches behind his ear. "Have I done anything recently that made the others… not trust me quite so much?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, I know I ain't been around that much lately. No one can be a newsies forever, and I been looking for a job and such. But, I've noticed that lately when something comes up most of the others go to you, not me. And I want to know if it's 'cause of something that I've done."

"No! No. You haven't done anything."

"Then why…"

"Well… Um…" I pause, thinking for a minute. "I think that it's partially because I haven't been here quite that long."

"That doesn't make any sense! You'd think that they'd go to someone who's always been there. I've known some of these kids for years!"

"Well, yes. That's part of the reason they don't want to go to you."

"What? You ain't making any sense."

"Think about it, you all have known me for two years. What do I do all day? I clean. I mend clothing. I tell you all off when you get too rowdy. I sort out problems should the need arise. I'm not in a position in their lives where what I think of them really matters. And I'm more of the silent type. I only raise my voice to tell you all off. It's not like I would go telling all their secrets to someone whose opinion matters. Does that make any sense?"

"You saying they're scared I'll judge them?"

"Well, yes. Sort of. Not so much judge as much as…"

"Maybe I should go talk to them."

He makes to get up, cutting me off.

"Jack Kelly, sit down!" He winces, and I sigh. I shouldn't have raised my voice.

"Um, let's look at it this way. You know about how Smalls gets night terrors, right?"

"No! Since when did that happen?"

Oops. I bite my bottom lip. Sorry, Smalls.

"Could you please not let her know that you know? She's been trying to keep it a secret from those who don't know."

"But…"

"Please?"

"Fine." He sighs.

"Promise?"

"I swear. Is that what you were looking for?"

I ignore this remark, and the heavy sarcasm threaded through it. I take a deep breath and think before continuing on. Rather than risk revealing something else, I continue using Smalls to make my point.

"Right. So, how do you and the other newsies view Smalls?"

"Um…" This comes out more as a question.

"How does Smalls act during the day?"

"She's energetic, you know, always moving. She's loud. She talks a lot. She can pull as many papes as most of the guys." He thinks for a moment.

"She's tough, too. You learn pretty quickly that if you make any jabs about her being a girl she'll punch you into next week. I remember this one time she threatened Albert, sayin' that if he said anything like that again she'd soak him so hard his gizzard would fall out. Still don't know what a gizzard is…"

He trailed off.

"Okay, so how do you see her?"

"As one of the guys, I guess. She's tough. I know she can hold her own, especially in a fight. Me and the guys just sorta watch over her a bit extra in non-newsies situations, especially at night. She is a girl, and, well, we know how guys can be, 'specially when you throw some alcohol into the mix."

I smile at this, but don't say anything.

"But now," he continues, "I don't know. I want to know why she gets nightmares."

"See," I say, "your opinion of her changed with this new information. The reason she didn't go to you, didn't want you or the others to know is because she's scared that you'll stop thinking about her as one of the guys, and you'll start thinking about her, and treating her as some weak, stupid little girl."

He opens his mouth to protest, again, and I cut him off, again.

"I know that you wouldn't. Logically, she knows that you wouldn't, too. And the other newsies know that you wouldn't judge or treat them differently if you knew their problems. But you've got to understand, you're their leader and their big brother. They look up to you. To them you are this amazing, creative, brave, fearless person, and they want you to think that they're brave and fearless too. That's why they don't go to you as much anymore. They now have a person they can talk to who has the ability to fix things or help them without the risk of you thinking less of them. Does that make any sense?"

He's silent for a moment.

"Yeah, it does."

"Look, if you want me to stop…"

"No!" It's his turn to cut me off. "No, you don't have to. I wasn't complaining, I just wanted to make sure that I hadn't done something to make them hate me."

I shake my head.

"They could never hate you."

"Well, then they came pretty damn close."

I look at him quizzically.

"During the strike, I made a decision. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, and there were… reasons… they just didn't know those reasons. It made me fall out of their favor for a while."

Jack goes silent, and I can tell that there is more to the story. But, if that's all he's going say, then I won't push him.

"Thank you," he says suddenly. "For explaining that to me. It makes sense."

"No problem. Just, don't go confronting Smalls or anyone else about it, okay?"

"I won't. Thanks."

He gets up, and walks to the ladder. He begins the descent, leaving me on the roof just as the sun is starting to rise over the cityscape.


End file.
